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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487442">Chopped: Faerghus Edition</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antimonicacid/pseuds/Antimonicacid'>Antimonicacid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chopped (TV Show), Gen, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), what else is there to say?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:54:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487442</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antimonicacid/pseuds/Antimonicacid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Blue Lions host a chopped episode where Ingrid, Dimitri, Sylvain, and Felix compete for the title of Chopped Superstar. Annette is tired.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Chopped: Faerghus Edition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>warning that i didnt edit this sorry</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Around the dark stage the audience buzzes in audible anticipation as they watch the still unparted curtains. The strike of the clock had rung its hourly reminder a few minutes before and this has only fueled the fervency of their wait.</p><p>It’s only when a small figure steps onto the stage that a hush falls over arena. A tiny head of bright red hair is the most visible thing among the shadowed set. She bobs her way from one end to the other, peaking into baskets and testing pilot lights before finally coming to stand in the center. She can be seen mouthing a few words to someone off stage. If one watched closely, they might be able to make out the phrase “let’s go, Annie” form on her lips in a mumbled mantra of encouragement.</p><p>Finally, someone motions a thumbs up in her direction that she mimics back. The stage is flooded with light and with it follows a rush of noise from the crowd to the girl’s slight bewilderment. As the roar of applause ebbs away she raises one hand to her face to adjust her headset and smiles widely.</p><p>“Hello Faerghus!” She says with a wave of her arms. “I’m Annette, although my friends call me Annie and we’re all friends here!” she says with a giggle. “I’ll be your host tonight for this special episode of Chopped: Faerghus Nobility Edition!” She waits for the noise to die out around her before continuing her introduction. “Now, as we all know this is a very special event to raise money for the war relief fund and because of that we have some very special guests. The first among those are our esteemed judges. Let’s give them a biiiig round of applause as we welcome them to the stage!”</p><p>In single file line the three judges filter in to stand behind her.</p><p>The first one waves his hand while cowering slightly behind his fellow judge. He clears his throat and introduces himself. “H-hello I’m Ashe. I’m very excited to be here tonight. Thank you!”</p><p>The next is comically large in comparison to the rest of his much smaller castmates. He gives a curt nod while saying simply “Dedue. I’m pleased to be here.”</p><p>The final one laughs at Dedue’s stiff introduction and squeezes his arm. She smiles brightly, the entire arena filled with warmth from her gentle gaze as she addresses the crowd. “Hi everyone! My name is Mercedes and I’m so so so happy to be here with you all!”</p><p>And with that the three take a seat a bit off to the side at the judging table. Annette waves to them and they wave back before she straightens her posture and remembers to do her job.</p><p>“Okay, so those are all very talented and esteemed judges. Now to meet our contestants. Come on out, guys!” She commands.</p><p>There are a few seconds of silence as nobody enters the stage. Finally, a man stumbles out behind the curtain, complaining as he catches his balance from being shoved. He looks towards the crowd and runs his fingers through his fire red hair to make himself more presentable.</p><p>“Welcome to the competition: Sylvain Gautier!” Annette announces with a clap of her hands.</p><p>Sylvain bows deeply and smiles at the audience. “I’m not just a fighter,” He tells them. “I’m a lover as well and what better place to show that than through cooking?”</p><p>Annette groans. “Alright, thank you, Sylvain. Next? <em>Quickly</em>,” she instructs.</p><p>With a huff another man walks to the center of the stage. He side-eyes the audience in distrust and brandishes his sword he probably shouldn’t have.</p><p>“Felix Fraldarius!” Annette announces. “And his sword he should not have,” she says with a forced smile.</p><p>Felix rolls his eyes and points his sword outward. “I’m going to–<em>do I really have to say it?</em>” he mumbles.</p><p>“Yes!” Annette tells him.</p><p>Felix groans. “I’m going to cut down the competition. Boom.” He puts his sword back into its sheath and crosses his arm, ignoring Sylvain laughing at his side.</p><p>Without needing to be called out a pretty blonde girl awkwardly enters. She smiles too forcefully as she waves, sweat sheening on her brow.</p><p>“And it’s Ingrid!” Annette says while clapping her hands. “Ingrid Galatea!”</p><p>Ingrid clears her throat and says, “I came here to win, not to make friends.” She follows this up with kicking at Sylvain’s shin as he tries to catch Mercedes’ eye.</p><p>“And last but not least,” Annette calls out.</p><p>Slow and unsure the final contestant shuffles onto the stage. Without hesitation the entire audience erupts into wild cheers as the blond man bashfully smiles.</p><p>“Our crowned king: Dimitri Blaiddyd!”</p><p>Dimitri politely waits for the volume to return to a reasonable level.</p><p>“Thank you. I do not know why I am here, truthfully,” he admits.</p><p>The four take their positions at their respective stations. Each have a basket in front of them and a stove behind. To their left is the pantry of assorted foods, and at their right are the judges’ watchful gaze.</p><p>“So, we all know the rules, right?” Annette asks.</p><p>Felix shrugs while Dimitri flat out says “No, I do not.”</p><p>Annette moves on ignoring them. “There are four rounds and three contestants,” she says.</p><p>Sylvain shakes his head and mouths <em>three rounds</em>.</p><p>“Oops!” Annette says while blushing. “Okay there are three rounds and <em>one two three-</em> four contestants! Appetizer, dinner and dessert. Each round we have our mystery basket of ingredients that must be incorporated into your dish. If your dish doesn’t make the cut, you will be chopped.”</p><p>“Nice,” Felix says.</p><p>“She means metaphorically, dumbass,” Ingrid snaps at him.</p><p>“Now!” Annette is becoming good at ignoring the shenanigans. “You can all open your baskets!”</p><p>Together each one parts the lids on their basket.</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Sylvain complains.</p><p>“I do not know what any of this is,” Dimitri adds.</p><p>Annette grins ear from ear as she helps him out. “And the ingredients you must incorporate into your dish are: Turnips, bullhead fish, Dagdan coffee beans, garlic chives and oranges! The appetizer round starts… now!”</p><p>And with that the time on the clock starts counting down.</p><p>In a flash Felix is already at the pantry, grabbing ingredients to carry back to his station. Sylvain’s in a similar hurry as he grabs the bullhead fish and starts to debone it. Dimitri stares at his basket before picking up one of the coffee beans and crunching into it.</p><p>“It’s not very good,” he informs the rest of them helpfully.</p><p>The only one staying completely still is Ingrid as she stares at the ingredients contemplating.</p><p>“Uhh, Ingrid you gotta move,” Annette prods her.</p><p>At the sound of Annette’s voice, she snaps out of it.</p><p>“Alright okay!” She tells her. “I got this I got this,” she says pulling out utensils.</p><p>Annette exhales in relief. “Tell us, Ingrid! What are you making?”</p><p>Ingrid nods while cutting the bullhead open. It’s a large fish and she has to use her entire body weight to pull the knife through. “I am making seared bullhead with a side of turnip chips. You know, like fish and chips.”</p><p>“Oooh, that’s so smart!”</p><p>“Uh-huh. I’m going to make a sauce with the oranges and garlic chives and maybe grab something else from the pantry, I don’t know.” Ingrid looks up and wipes some sweat from her brow with her shirt sleeve. “I’m pretty sure the entirety of my competition is either idiotic or incompetent or a bad and slutty mixture of the two. So, I think I’ll do good?”</p><p>Annette nods. “I think so too. What about the coffee beans, though?” she asks.</p><p>“They’re on the backburner,” Ingrid tells her.</p><p>Annette peaks at her stove.</p><p>“Not the <em>literal</em> backburner, Annette. I’m–okay! I’m figuring it out!”</p><p>Annette walks quickly to the next station.</p><p>“Hey, short stack, how you doin’?” Sylvain asks her with a wink.</p><p>Giggling Annette answers “I’m doing good! Now, how are you doing, or I guess <em>what</em> are you doing?” She asks.</p><p>“Thank you for asking,” Sylvain tells her. “I am making seared bullhead steaks with some turnip crisps. Kinda like fish and chips or whatever. Smart, right?”</p><p>Annette nods uneasily. “Uhh yeah. Haha yeah…” she changes the subject. “And the rest of the basket?”</p><p>Sylvain hums. “Ah, I’ll figure it out as I go along. I’m not worried about it, Ingrid’s gonna win anyways.”</p><p>“Felix!” Annette calls while skipping to his station. “Whatcha doing?” She asks.</p><p>“Mind your business,” Felix tells her.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>Felix looks up from where he’s peeling oranges. “Oh, it’s you. Hey, Annette.”</p><p>Annette huffs and crosses her arms. “Rude! Now tell the audience what you’re making, Mr. Crankypants.”</p><p>Felix gestures towards his pile of peeled oranges and various produce pulled from the pantry. “Isn’t it obvious?”</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“I’m making ceviche,” he tells her. “Duh.”</p><p>“Oooh,” Annette puts her hands together pleased. “That’s fancy! You’re not Mr. Crankypants, you’re Mr. Fancypants!”</p><p>Felix rolls his eyes. “Please, Mr. Fancypants is my father. Call me Fancy.”</p><p>Annette giggles and pokes his forehead. “Okay, and what else are you doing?” she asks.</p><p>“I’m going to make a salad with the turnips and put a vinaigrette on top with the coffee somehow. I don’t know, do I look like I fucking cook?”</p><p>“You can’t say the F-word, Felix!” She chastises him. “At least you have a use for the coffee, I guess,” she says with a sigh. “Why are you peeling oranges?” she asks.</p><p>“So I can juice them,” he tells her.</p><p>“You can do that with the peel on? Just cut them in half, silly.”</p><p>“Oh,” Felix looks down at his pile of peeled oranges.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Bye-bye, Felix!”</p><p>Last is Dimitri. At his station he has successfully juiced all his oranges into one large bowl.</p><p>“Helloooo Dimitri,” Annette greets him. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“I’m making orange juice,” Dimitri tells her.</p><p>“Oh,” she says. “And your plans so far?” she asks.</p><p>He gestures to the bowl.</p><p>“Dimitri,” Annette says with concern dripping from her voice like the juice dripping from his pathetic hands. “Do you expect to win this?” she asks.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Dimitri answers. “I do not know why I am here, but I am excited to see Ingrid claim a victory.”</p><p>Annette nods. “Okay then! Well… have fun?” she says.</p><p>“I won’t,” he tells her before grabbing a turnip and taking a bite out of it. “What do you do with these?” he asks.</p><p>“I can’t help you cheat!” she tells him.</p><p>Dimitri shrugs. “Okay.” He grabs the bowl of orange juice and squeezes the turnip over it. It explodes in his hand, covering him, his station, and Annette in turnip pulp. “Drat!” he complains. “Too hard…” He grabs another turnip and repeats the action.</p><p>Annette scampers away before she can get drenched in that one too.</p><p>“Okay,” Annette announces. “There is 15 minutes on the clock! Let’s go see what our judges are doing.”</p><p>At the judge table Mercedes eagerly waves and Annette giggles. “Hello, Your Collective Honor.”</p><p>“Hi, Annette!” Ashe smiles at her.</p><p>“Hi, Ashe!” She grins back. “So, is this a hard basket?”</p><p>“No,”  Dedue says. “Not at all.”</p><p>“Dedue!” Ashe chastises him. “It’s a little bit hard, especially if you’re not familiar with cooking. Bullhead can be tricky.”</p><p>Mercedes nods. “I’m no good at making fish,” she laments. “I love the vegetables they have though. So fresh and yummy!”</p><p>Dedue nods along. “Yes. Bullhead can be challenging. The hard part is getting even fillets. It’s a large fish and bones can be a choking hazard. It may take time for them to properly break it down.”</p><p>Annette hums. “You’re so smart, Dedue,” she compliments him to his embarrassment. “Okay so fish, but what about that coffee? They’re beans!”</p><p>“Oh, I love coffee!” Mercedes exclaims. “It makes me so jittery though. What about you, Ashe?”</p><p>“Yes,” Ashe agrees. “It always sends my anxiety through the roof. Ah, I hope that won’t be a problem today…” He looks down nervously.</p><p>“There’s lots you can do with it though,” Mercedes assures them. “It can be a marinade or a spice rub. You could put it into gravy or a sauce.”</p><p>Dedue nods. “Yes. The Dagda roast especially has really rich and flavorful notes. It would pair especially well with the turnips, I think.”</p><p>“Felix was going to make a vinaigrette!” Annette chimes in.</p><p>“Oooh,” Mercedes coos.</p><p>“Does he know how?” Ashe asks.</p><p>“Yes!” Felix yells from his station. “Fuck off, Ashe!”</p><p>“Stop saying the F-word, Felix!” Annette yells back.</p><p>Dedue sighs. “I do not think he knows how,” he confesses.</p><p>Mercedes laughs. “I think he got some of his friends to help him prepare over the week. I know Leonie said she paid him a visit and so did Bernie and you too, Annie.”</p><p>“Shhh!” Annette hushes her. “Let’s go back to our contestants.”</p><p>In the kitchen Sylvain is thinly slicing his turnips. “I have some purple potatoes too. I bet they’ll be pretty,” he tells Annette. “Hey, Ingrid?” Sylvain calls out?</p><p>“What?” Ingrid asks while laying her fillets onto her grill.</p><p>“How high do I set my over to roast my turnip chips?” he asks.</p><p>“Why are you asking me?”</p><p>“Ugh, fine. Annette? Do you think 500 is fine or is that too low?”</p><p>“No!” Ingrid yells. “Are you trying to burn the set down, idiot?” she asks while running over. “Here, put it <em>this</em> high and– why aren’t you cooking your fish yet? What’s wrong with you?”</p><p>Sylvain shrugs. “I don’t want them to over cook so I was gonna do them last.”</p><p>She huffs and flicks him. “You always put things off until the last second. It’s infuriating!”</p><p>“Hey, it usually works out for me. I got a plan, okay?” He spins his bowl of fillets proudly.</p><p>“What are you doing with them?”</p><p>“Marinade,” he answers.</p><p>“It’s a bullhead! The flavor is fine on its own you’ll ruin it!”</p><p>“Um,” Annette fidgets from next to them. “Ingrid?”</p><p>“What now, Annie?” Ingrid asks exasperated.</p><p>“Your stove’s… a little on fire,” Annette squeaks out.</p><p>Ingrid curses and grabs a pitcher of water on her station.</p><p>“Nope,” Sylvain says and quickly takes it out of her hand. He hands her a large lid instead. “You’ll start a grease fire that way. Try and smother it inst– okay and she’s gone.”</p><p>Ingrid follows his advice and covers her pan with the lid. With the fire successfully dead, Ingrid sighs and rubs her temples. “That’s my sauce,” she whines.</p><p>“You can make another,” Sylvain tells her while slicing his potatoes. He holds on up, a bright purple disk. “Look how pretty!” he says.</p><p>Ingrid yells without words and grabs one of Sylvain’s oranges to remake her sauce.</p><p>“Okay…” Annette says. “So, ten minutes! Felix!” She stomps to his station. “Why haven’t you cut up your fish yet! It’s big and hard to de-bone!” she tells him.</p><p>“I don’t think it’s that hard…” He looks at her like she’s crazy. “I’m making a salad.” He holds up his cutting board with some beautifully julienned fresh vegetables. “Turnips, carrots, and apples,” he says while squeezing an orange over top. “Easy.”</p><p>Annette puffs out her cheeks. “But your fish…” she whines. “Felix… your fish is getting lonely.”</p><p>“Fish don’t get lonely. Fish are fish and this one is dead.”</p><p>“You’re ignoring her! Look, she’s so sad, Felix!”</p><p>“Why is it a she?”</p><p>“Don’t call her an it, Felix! She’s crying!”</p><p>“<em>Annette</em>!”</p><p>Annette crosses her arms and pouts. Felix glares. Annette’s lip wobbles. Felix looks down in shame.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll chop her up then,” he finally relents.</p><p>“Yay! Chop her up! Little fishy swims in the sea! Whack her with a knife and feed her to me! Yummy yummy she goes in my– <em>DON’T USE YOUR SWORD, FELIX HOLY SHI</em>–“</p><p>It’s too late and with a quick series of flicks and slices the bullhead is cut into small bite sized pieces.</p><p>“Felix!” Annette yells at him.</p><p>“What?” he asks. “I cleaned it,” he says while holding his sword up. “It’s just faster this way.”</p><p>Annette holds a hand to her chest and sends a prayer out. “Go make your stupid raw fish, Felix.”</p><p>Felix swirls his finger at his temple and mouths <em>crazy</em> at her. She chooses to ignore it and, reluctantly, goes to see how Dimitri is faring.</p><p>“So, how’s it going?” she asks.</p><p>Dimitri gestures at his workstation. “I’m cooking,” he proudly declares.</p><p>Annette peeks at the fish and grimaces. “Dimitri… you murdered that fish.”</p><p>Dimitri frowns. “The fish was already dead, Annette. Don’t be silly.”</p><p>Annette shakes her head. “We may have killed the fish, but you <em>murdered</em> it, Dimitri. What did you do?” she cries out and covers her face with her hands.</p><p>The fish’s stomach is torn open. Clearly done by hand with the jagged edges and bits of fish strewn around. Pieces of its skin are stacked neatly to the side and its head is just… gone.</p><p>“Where’s her head, Dimitri?” Annette demands to know.</p><p>Dimitri frowns and looks away. “It was creepy, so I removed it,” he says.</p><p>“That’s so much creepier! Dimitri where’s her head?”</p><p>He lifts up an upside-down bowl to reveal the fish’s head. “It felt like I was being judged and I didn’t appreciate it,” he defends himself.</p><p>“Dimitri, this is a competition,” Annette laments. “You’re literally going to be judged. Are you going to be mad when Dedue judges you? Are you going to,” she covers her mouth with her hand in horror, “Are you going to rip off Ashe’s head?”</p><p>From the judge’s table Ashe turns pale. “Please don’t?” he asks in a meek voice.</p><p>“I’m making fish sticks,” Dimitri says instead of reassuring Ashe. He points to a pan where three uneven and roughly ripped tenders of fish are cooking.</p><p>“Okay,” Annette nods. “Did you flavor them?” she asks.</p><p>“Yes,” Dimitri says. He grabs his bowl of juice and tips a splash into the pan. “Now I have.”</p><p>“Don’t forget about your other stuff, Dimitri! You need to use coffee and the garlic chives too!”</p><p>As she walks away, she mouths <em>sorry</em> to the judges.</p><p>“Okay, five minutes!” Annette declares. “Maybe start thinking about plates?”</p><p>Felix pulls out a food processor and tosses a handful of coffee beans into them. He presses pulse and watches them turn into a gritty power. “Good enough,” he says and throws it into his vinaigrette. He grates some pepper in along with it as well as some vinegar (duh) and a spoonful of mustard.</p><p>“Who taught him how to do that?” Sylvain demands to know.</p><p>Annette ducks her head down and moves past.</p><p>Sylvain opens his oven and shakes his pan of turnip and purple potato chips. “A few more minutes,” he says calmly.</p><p>“We don’t have a few minutes,” Ingrid complains.</p><p>“Yes, we do,” Sylvain says. “There’s like, ten minutes left, right?”</p><p>“No!” Ingrid fumes. “The clock is right there, we have less than four.”</p><p>Sylvain squints at the clock. “Are you sure? I can’t see that. I think you’re overreacting.”</p><p>“I am not overreacting you’re underreacting.”</p><p>Annette clears her throat. “Um, yes there is four minutes less. Sylvain?” she asks. “What is your strategy for winning?”</p><p>Sylvain grins wide. “Distract Ingrid until she combusts.” He reaches over to her station and pokes at her sliced but still raw turnip fries. “Don’t these have to be cooked?” he asks.</p><p>Ingrid stares at him open mouthed. “Sylvain, I am going to murder you and turn your body into ceviche I swear to–“</p><p>“Deep fryer’s over there,” Sylvain cuts her off.</p><p>Ingrid grabs her turnip fries and sprints.</p><p>“And don’t forget your coffee!” Sylvain calls after her.</p><p>Whistling to himself he pulls his chips out of the oven and starts to lay them onto his plate in a fanning pattern. He pokes at his fish still on the stove and says “Ah, probably should’ve put them on a bit sooner. Well, we live and we learn.”</p><p>Annette stares at him. “You’re the devil,” she says quietly.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“TWO MINUTES! GET YOUR PLATES OUT! TWO MINUTES! AMEN!”</p><p>“Hello, Ingrid,” Dimitri says while placing his fish sticks onto his plates. “Do you remember if it was three or four plates we’re supposed to make?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m not falling for that one, Your Highness,” she glares at him. “Watch yourself. I got my eye on you.”</p><p>“IT’S FOUR, YOUR HIGHNESS!” Sylvain yells across the kitchen.</p><p>“Thank you, Sylvain,” Dimitri grabs a fourth plate. “I only made three fish sticks,” he says with a sigh and pulls one in half. “Alright, all better.” He picks up the bag of coffee he hadn’t yet touched. Grabbing a handful of beans, he quickly crunches them in his palm, turning them into a fine powder. He throws it into his bowl of juice.</p><p>Next to him Felix spoons some of his finished ceviche mixture on to his plates.</p><p>“It looks tasty,” Annette tells him. “What’s in it?”</p><p>“Lime, garlic chives, some red onions and uhh fish,” he says while haphazardly tossing some of his turnip salad next to it. He spoons his orange vinaigrette over top the entire dish. “Okay, done,” he says.</p><p>Annette frowns. “Shouldn’t you make it… prettier?” she asks.</p><p>“What’s wrong with it?”</p><p>“It looks like fish puke.”</p><p>“How do you know what fish puke looks like?”</p><p>“This taught me.”</p><p>Felix shrugs and starts eating his leftover ceviche. Behind him Ingrid runs back to her station holding her turnip fries.</p><p>“Hey Ingrid,” Sylvain says upon her return.</p><p>“Shut up, Sylvain,” she tells him while quickly plating her turnip fries and drizzling it in the garlic chive aioli she made.</p><p>“Wait, no I’m not fucking with you–“</p><p>“YOU CAN’T SAY THE F-WORD,” Annette yells. “ALSO, ONE MINUTE!”</p><p>“Shut up, Sylvain!” Ingrid says once more while wiping the edges of her plate.</p><p>“Wait, Ingrid your–“</p><p>“Sylvain, you are the most childish person in the world. Whatever happened to good sportsmanship, huh? Or integrity? What about-“</p><p>“Ingrid, you need to plate your fish,” he groans.</p><p>“Oh,”</p><p>“TEN! NINE! EIGHT!”</p><p>Ingrid grabs a spatula and works on unsticking her fish from the stove. Next to her Sylvain easily places all four pieces of fish on top of his completed plates.</p><p>“SIX! FIVE! FOUR!”</p><p>She tosses two chunks of fish on to her plates and goes back for the rest.</p><p>“And your sauce!” Sylvain reminds her as she swears and grabs a spoon to flick sauce messily over most of her dishes.</p><p>On the other side of the kitchen Dimitri finishes pouring his turnip/orange/coffee juice into four small cups.</p><p>Felix is still eating his leftover ceviche.</p><p>“THREE! TWO! ONE!”</p><p>The buzzer rings as Sylvain finishes garnishing his last plate with some chopped raw garlic chives and a sprig of parsley. Ingrid accidentally drops one of her pieces of fish.</p>
<hr/><p>“So, that was fun, right?” Annette asks. “Now our judges will rate each dish based off of taste, presentation, and creativity,” she announces. “First up is Ingrid! Tell us what you made.”</p><p>Ingrid huffs and steps forward. “Today I made a play on fish and chips. It is seared bullhead drizzled in an orange juice reduction with a side of turnip fries. I also have, uh, a mayo– I mean an aioli with the garlic chives. Um, thanks or whatever?” She steps back.</p><p>Mercedes furrows her brow. “I don’t have any fish on my plate,” she says confused.</p><p>“I kinda have fish on mine?” Ashe says. “Or half of one, I think?”</p><p>“Me as well, Ashe,” Dedue pokes at his own dish. “The portion is rather small, but the coloring on mine is good. Here, Mercedes,” he cuts off a piece and places it onto her plate.</p><p>“Oh,” Ashe says. “That’s good. Mine’s a bit burnt but, oh I shouldn’t complain before eating.”</p><p>Ingrid turns to Sylvain and drags a finger against her neck. Sylvain blows her a kiss.</p><p>“I think the fries are good,” Dedue says finally. He dips a turnip into the aioli before nibbling on it. “A bit undercooked, but the flavor is good. Same for your sauce.”</p><p>“I didn’t get any sauce,” Ashe says it like an apology.</p><p>“I got a tiny bit?” Mercedes squints at her plate. “I think?”</p><p>Dedue holds his plate out for Ashe to swipe his bite of fish through it. “Oh! It is good! Helps with the fish being a little dry…” his voice trails off. “You put it on pretty early in the competition. I think that may have been a mistake.”</p><p>Mercedes frowns. “Ingrid, where’s the coffee?”</p><p>Flinching Ingrid asks “Oh… coffee?”</p><p>Dedue nods. “Yes. Coffee.”</p><p>“It is… not in this dish, unfortunately,” she scratches the back of her neck. “Oops?”</p><p>Dedue nods. “Disappointing. A good effort though. I think.”</p><p>“Your mayonnaise was good!” Mercedes tries to cheer her up.</p><p>Ingrid mumbles her thanks and steps back.</p><p>“Hello, chefs,” Sylvain says while stepping up for judging. “Today I made you a deconstruction of fish and chips. The bullhead is dressed in the orange juice along with some garlic powder, coffee grinds (I remembered), and paprika;  the turnips roasted with some purple potatoes to make chips; and the whole thing accented with a spicy chipotle sauce that also has the coffee incorporated. Oh, and garnished with chives yadda yadda yadda.”</p><p>“It’s so pretty!” Mercedes exclaims.</p><p>“Yes,” Dedue tilts his head looking at his plate. “It is.”</p><p>“I almost feel bad for eating it,” Ashe says with a sigh. “Aw, did you draw a heart with the sauce?”</p><p>Sylvain scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, that was supposed to be Mercedes plate…”</p><p>“Oh…” Ashe says disappointed. “Well, we should eat up!”</p><p>It’s quiet as the three judges take their first bites. Sylvain hums under his breath as he waits for them to finish chewing.</p><p>Dedue places his fork down. “Sylvain?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“How did you make it to be completely devoid of flavor?”</p><p>Ingrid bursts out laughing.</p><p>Sylvain laughs nervously. “Uhh, what do you mean?” he asks.</p><p>Mercedes coughs at the side. “It’s so spicy,” she says looking for a glass of water.</p><p>Ashe nods, his face red as he coughs as well. “H-how much c-ch-chipotle–“ he’s cut off by another cough and Annette runs to grab them a pitcher of water.</p><p>Dedue nods. “Flavorless, but very spicy,” he seems unaffected by the chipotle.</p><p>“In a way,” Sylvain says while watching Annette hand the judges fresh cups of water. “That’s kinda a deconstruction. Spice without flavor is all the wave nowadays.”</p><p>Mercedes shakes her head and wipes tears from her eyes. “I don’t like that wave,” she whines.</p><p>“You should use more salt,” Dedue tells him. “And…” he frowns confused. “In theory, this should be a good dish. You have many good components here. I do not know how you messed it up.”</p><p>Sylvain winks. “That’s what my mom says to me every day.”</p><p>“And on that sad note…” Annette moves them along. “Felix, tell us what you made.”</p><p>“Isn’t it obvious?”</p><p>Mercedes frowns and pokes her fork at her dish. “It looks like fish poo,” she says sadly.</p><p>“Yes,” Dedue agrees. “Potentially vomit.”</p><p>Ashe groans and holds his stomach. “Stop, you’re going to make me sick.”</p><p>“I don’t want to eat it,” Mercedes whines and pushes it away.</p><p>“Hey,” Felix complains. “It looks fine why are you acting like a bunch of pussies?”</p><p>“Felix,” Mercedes pouts. “You can’t say pussy on the stage.”</p><p>“EAT THE FOOD!” Annette yells at them and the three hurry and comply.</p><p>Dedue swallows his bite and sighs. Pinching the bridge of his nose he says, “It’s good.”</p><p>Ashe nods with a perplexed look on his face. “It’s like the complete opposite experience from before. I hate looking at it, but I can’t stop eating it.”</p><p>“Felix, you did so well!” Mercedes cheers. “It’s the tastiest fish poo I ever had.”</p><p>Felix scoffs.</p><p>“Okay, and last but not least! Dimitri!”</p><p>Dimitri waves awkwardly. “I made… Fish sticks,” he says. “With turnip and orange juice…”</p><p>“It’s a cocktail,” Sylvain helps him out.</p><p>“Sure,” Dimitri agrees. “There’s coffee in it. And the chives are on top.”</p><p>They are literally laying on top of the dish.</p><p>“<em>Ashe</em>,” Mercedes leans behind Dedue and whispers. “<em>I really don’t want to eat this</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Me neither</em>,” Ashe whispers back. “<em>But he worked so hard!</em>”</p><p>“<em>I don’t want to hurt my tummy,</em>” Mercedes complains.</p><p>“They can hear you,” Dedue informs them both.</p><p>The two snap back up and eat their food. Ashe chews on his piece of fish stick and makes a small whimpering noise. Mercedes takes a sip of her juice and spits it back out. Dedue works on finishing his dish.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t think you should,” Annette tries to stop him.</p><p>“His Majesty made it. It’s only polite,” Dedue finishes his fish stick off.</p><p>“You didn’t finish mine,” Ingrid complains.</p><p>“Hm…” Dedue doesn’t argue.</p><p>“Dedue,” Dimitri says seriously. “I’m not sure you should.”</p><p>Dedue chugs down the cup of juice and coughs. Mercedes eyes him warily.</p><p>“It was adequate,” he tells Dimitri. “I think fish sticks are creative.”</p><p>Mercedes nods. “Yes, you tried your best, dear and that’s what matters.”</p><p>“I didn’t like it,” Ashe says. “But your presentation was nice! The chive is!” He nibbles the sprig of chive. “Edible?”</p><p>Felix leans over and mumbles to Sylvain. “This is bullshit.”</p><p>“They got Dimitri brain worms. It’s fatal,” Sylvain replies.</p><p>“Are they going to be okay?” Ingrid asks concerned. “He drank that whole glass.”</p><p>Dimitri clears his throat. “Thank you for your feedback. I would like to go home now.”</p><p>“Dimitri no!” Annette whines. “We have to have the judges deliberate first on who is going to be chopped. So! Leave! Get off stage! Bye-bye!”</p><p>When they are successfully shooed away she turns to the judges. “So, what do you guys think?”</p><p>Dedue answers first. “They all tried.”</p><p>Ashe agrees. “Yes. That is a true statement. They all tried.”</p><p>“Maybe even tried their hardest!” Mercedes adds on.</p><p>Annette nods. “Favorites? Least favorites?”</p><p>Dedue furrows his eyebrows. “Felix’s is the only one that tasted good. I’m unsure how. I’m not entirely sure I know what I ate.”</p><p>“Um,” Annette tries to remember. “Ceviche with a turnip, apple, and carrot salad? He did something weird with the coffee?”</p><p>Ashe hums. “Oh yes. The coffee was kinda gritty. He put it in a food processor.”</p><p>Mercedes tilts her head. “How did Dimitri get his so finely ground?”</p><p>“I think he just crushed it in his hands,” Ashe answers in a way that is a bit too admiring.</p><p>“Dimitri,” Dedue says. “Was creative.”</p><p>Annette grimaces a little. “Okay, but was he though?”</p><p>“Yes,” Dedue crosses his arms.</p><p>“Okay, Mr. Crazypants…”</p><p>“I am not a ‘Crazypants,’” Dedue says insulted.</p><p>“You’re right,” Mercedes pats his arm. “You’re a Mr. Crazypants. Well!” She says cheerfully. “I thought Sylvain’s was awful, but it was pretty!”</p><p>“So, pretty,” Ashe agrees.</p><p>“A really well-presented plate. Evenly proportioned and creative,” Dedue says.</p><p>“All beauty and no substance,” Annette sighs.</p><p>The judges sigh alongside her.</p><p>“Ingrid?” Annette asks.</p><p>“She did a terrible job,” Dedue says.</p><p>“Dedue!” Ashe chastises him.</p><p>“What?” Dedue asks. “She missed half of the basket ingredients and burnt your fish.”</p><p>“Her turnips were tasty…” Mercedes says. “And not spicy.”</p><p>“Yes,” Dedue nods. “They were good turnips.”</p>
<hr/><p>The four contestants are brought back out onto the stage.</p><p>“So, we deliberated,” Mercedes says. “And it wasn’t easy to come to a decision because all of your dishes were so unique and tasty.”</p><p>“And bad,” Ashe adds.</p><p>“Very bad,” Dedue agrees.</p><p>“But good!” Mercedes gives them all a thumbs up. “But this is a competition, and I hope we can all still be friends afterwards.”</p><p>“And,” Annette chimes in. “That nobody rips off Ashe’s head!”</p><p>Ashe cringes away. “Why is it always my head?”</p><p>“So,” Dedue steers them back on track. “We came to a decision and the person we are chopping is–“</p><p>“Stop!” Annette yells. “That’s my job!” She pouts while Dedue apologizes. “And the dish we are chopping is….” She pulls up cover to reveal the dish underneath.</p><p>“Ingrid,” Dedue helpfully informs them.</p><p>Felix laughs. “Haha! Loser!”</p><p>“Stop that,” Dimitri elbows him. “She did fantastic and her dish seemed very tasty. Clearly, there was a mistake and I am the one who’s allowed to go home.”</p><p>“Nope!” Annette interrupts him. “Ingrid’s the loser, but a very nice and pretty one still!”</p><p>Ingrid sighs. “Thank you?”</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Ashe says. “You were missing key basket components and your fish was overcooked. For these reasons we–“</p><p>“Chopped you,” Dedue says.</p><p>“Yes,” Mercedes nods. “But better luck next time?”</p><p>“There is no next time,” Dedue reminds her.</p><p>“Aww,” Mercedes sighs. “Well, just because you got last place doesn’t mean you’re any less of a winner.”</p><p>Ingrid grimaces. “Thanks guys… I think…” She waves sadly and starts to walk off stage.</p><p>“You’re a winner, Inny!” Sylvain calls after her.</p><p>“Choke on a dick, Sylvain!”  Ingrid flips him off over her shoulder.</p><p>“Ingrid,” Dedue frowns. “you can’t say dick.”</p><p>Annette nods. “Thank you, Your Honor. Now, who’s ready for round two?”</p><p>The three remaining contestants shrug their shoulders and give noncommittal replies.</p><p>“Well, too bad,” Annette says. “Here we go!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im not sure if ill write the other two rounds for this or when but this is just my fun side project i guess fnds ndjfdnj </p><p>my twitter is <a href="https://twitter.com/biheretic">here</a> along with my curiouscat. </p><p>and comments and stuff are always nice! blows u a kissie</p></blockquote></div></div>
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